Bio:

Where do you come from?

You know the start of Harry Potter, where some dumbass poor British kid ends up getting on a magical ride from a giant and all that “yer a wizzard ’arry” people like to joke about? Okay, got that solidified in your head? Now imagine instead of that you get to find out about being a wizard by nuking your older brother’s new truck he paid for with his first tribal money by making it sink 3 feet into the ground and then having him beat the shit out of you. Then then apparently the fact that I was going to be a wizard was hidden from me for my own safety until it became clear that MAGIC IS HAPPENING.

Now don’t get me wrong, magic is pretty cool and all, but the training that goes along with it fucking suuuuuucks. Not just ‘Here, James, this is how you use magic, make sure not to kill anyone or the white man comes to scalp you.’ No, there’s all this ‘tribal leader’ crap that comes along with it. No one told me about that. I knew great grandpa used to be the head of the band, but that was like 100 years ago! Now I have to deal with shit like ’there’s a bunch of federal on the land go make sure they’re not harassing people’ or ‘old lady Freeman says there’s a ghost in her house, go make the ancestors shut up’ or ‘great great great great grandfather has a vision quest you need to go on WAIT NO THIS IS JUSTMUSHROOMS hahaha you need to learn to tell the difference’.

Magic is bullshit sometimes. No, wait. Destiny is bullshit.

What shaped you?

Rising Conflict: Okay, so, college isn’t all that bad. Even if you are a wizard Shaman. sorry grandpa won’t happen again Dad told me that my first mission in college should be to get a nickname. People remember nicknames. People remember who you are that way. Memories are important, both for the people and yourself and your magic. More over, names are more important since apparently my Name can get me killed dead by other magic people and more over the Fae. I’m not even going to start to explain the bitching grandpa had for the Fae. Apparently all of them are dicks or something.

It turns out that the white kids at school are really surprised to see an native kid in anything other than the ag classes. Really more than that they’re surprised to see them out speechifying them in com courses. Debate is fun as heck. I think I like it even more than magic some days because one can win a debate without the risk of blowing oneself to tiny Tall Branches.

What’s really cool is talking down an OSU lineman from trying to take your head clean off for being… well, I’m still not sure what he was mad about. All I do know is that ‘training’ paid off when, after explaining to him exactly how I was going to take him apart and dismantle his dream of playing for the Raiders, I pointed out all the ways that a sports medicine degree would only remind him of how much his 40 sucked ‘back in the day’.

I think he went and switched majors to chem that afternoon. All I know is I didn’t get decked.

…I told you that story to tell you that someone decided that I was now the Mighty Quinn even if I’m not an Eskimo. I keep pointing that out to people I’m Ojibwe. It never sticks. Ah well. Dylan’s right though. Sometimes it’s just better to live in harmony.

Case File: Save Your Soul With Rock And Roll

GUESTSTARRING: Warden Drushal

did you know there are sorcerers in cleveland? grandpa why didn’t you tell me there were sorcerers in cleveland? THATWOULDHAVEBEENNICE TO KNOW.

so, here I am out with the Last of the Mohicans, all the other indian kids on campus basically, and we thought ‘hey let’s go see a rock show’ and I’m like ‘you know I mess up all that iPod crap’ and they’re like ‘quinn stop being a fucking nerd’ and they got me on that one i am a nerd, but that’s your fault grandpa you did that.

So there we are at this little dive bar for this band RADIENCE OF THENIGHT. Apparently the misspelling is part of the band name. Halfway through the set, everyone at the bar just start looking all groggy and shit, except for the bad which just keeps on playing. And then the roadies come out. Only they’re not like regular roadies they’re crazy roadies who start dragging people into the back of the bar. So, I do a quick little poof of magic to disguise myself at least. That little ‘just ignore me’ spell you taught, grandpa. And I sneak into the back a little bit, and there’s this dead lady in the loading bay, all trying to get her crazy men to string people up into a reefer truck. Well that wasn’t cool, but I’m freaking out now and all I can remember is the first spell I cast, so I did, and turned the pavement into a big freaking mudpit under the truck.

Well the truck starts to sink, and the crazy lady knows something is wrong but she can’t see me cause shit yes the spell is working. But then she starts panicking and running off cause the spell was wearing off inside and people were starting to wake up. she freaks the hell out and starts casting fireballs into the all the kegs trying to flush me out but shit no I already had bent all the metal next to me into a wall and shit. Then i used my Big Boy voice to tell her the Wardens Are On Their Way. Heck, why not, she’s gotta be scared of that, right?

Only the Warden was already there. And it turns out they don’t give a fuck about due process.

So now that lady’s dead and he’s stalking over at me and I’m dropping everything I’ve got up trying to look like the good guy. and he gives me the once over and walks off.

So. Uh. yeah. I got blamed for that. The Last of the Mohicans didn’t need crazy Quinn and crazy bad ideas anymore. Even if it was their idea. Oh well. That shit scared me straight anyways. Inexperienced, but not Dumb. Got that? Don’t do stupid shit with magic.

Case File: Everyone Needs Somebody

GUESTSTARRING IN CHUCK’S STORY
…in which Quinn pisses off both courts by Calling A Hunt on the Summer and Winter Guardians of Columbus.

Case File: That’s not a Goat, Mate. This is a Goat.

GUESTSTARRING IN IAN’S STORY
…in which Quinn fails to recognize a gruff when he sees one.